


mines in our landscape

by Sway



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:24:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sway/pseuds/Sway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know this is ridiculous, right? At some point you will have to talk to me. I will be home in a week and there is no freezing me out then.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	mines in our landscape

**Author's Note:**

> [sal-si-puedes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_si_puedes) prompted me this: Marvey or Brian/Justin - “Please listen to me-”
> 
> The title is from "Mines" by Tina Dico

“You know this is ridiculous, right? At some point you will have to talk to me. I will be home in a week and there is no freezing me out then.”

Justin hangs up after leaving the fifth voice mail on Brian’s phone. This is ridiculous and yet, he can’t quite get himself to not call Brian. Not after the humongous fight they’ve had during Brian’s last visit in New York. He wants and needs this settled before he spends an entire weekend in stoic silence. Or worse, Michael’s old bedroom.

So he leaves more messages throughout the week, trying to make them sound like casual social calls. He tells Brian about his plans to go to an art workshop to broaden his spectrum, about how he is going to check out this new sushi place hoping not to get food poisoning, and how he has yet again been approached by some new art magazine to work for them as an editor. 

He tries anything to sound normal, to not let Brian freezing him out bother him. It doesn’t work. So when he travels to Pittsburgh on the following Friday, he does so with a lead ball for a stomach.

The cab driver gives him a strange look when Justin tells him the address of the mansion. He has gotten used to that over the past five years. They are either suspected him to be some spoiled rich boy or that some sugar daddy is waiting for him. If only one of them were the case.

When they pull into the driveway, Brian’s car isn’t there. He is probably either still at Kinnetik brooding over some new ad campaign, or there’s already a first drink in front of him Babylon.

Either way, coming home to the empty house always feels a little weird, like Justin doesn’t really belong. Of course, they have furnished it to their liking, have lived there long enough to call it home (although Justin still spends most of the time in New York) but still… when he steps across the threshold and nobody is there, he is that twenty-two year old kid who doesn’t belong between mahogany wood panels and Italian leather couches.

*

“I got a call from my doctor.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Justin jerks around, a huge kitchen knife in hand. He has been busy preparing himself a little midnight snack, bustling about in the kitchen, and hasn’t noticed Brian coming home. With his heart beating all the way up to his throat, he doesn’t even register what Brian has said.

“Right before I left for New York last week,” Brian continues as though Justin isn’t still pointing a knife at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m… apologizing to you.”

Finally, Justin drops the knife. “ _What_ are you talking about?”

Brian stalls. Like he always does. He goes to the fridge and gets himself a beer. He talks a long drink before he finally leans against the refrigerator door, exhaling audibly. “I am talking about my five year checkup.” 

“Brian…”

“He called me last minute on Friday to confirm the date and I got… nervous. And I took it out on you,” Brian finally explains, and it’s more of a run-on ramble than a sentence. “I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”

“Forget the apology. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because… I didn’t want you to look at me all weekend the way you look at me right now, alright?”

“So we’re doing that again?” Justin throws his hands up in frustration. “ I don’t believe you.”

Brian stubs his foot on the floor in defiance, leaving a mark on the tiles. He doesn’t look at Justin, instead he focuses on peeling the label off his bottle.

“Okay, what else is there?” Annoyed, Justin yanks the drink from his grasp. “Brian…”

When Brian finally replies, his voice is very quiet. Which is more scary than what he has to say. “They found a mass.” 

“Where?” The panic that bubbles up in Justin he tries to mask by sounding business-like, professional, like he has asked that question a million times before. 

"Liver.” Brian’s hand darts up to his side, fingers tracing what probably is a bandaid or bandage beneath his shirt. “They saw it on the ultrasound, did a biopsy, result will be in on Monday."

“Do they… I mean… I’m sure it’s benign, right?”

“Well, that’s what the biopsy is for.” Brian grimaces as he tries to hide… what? Anger? Fear?

Justin tires to process the news, and it takes him a while. Part of him feels a little foolish for being angry, the other gets even more angry at Brian for shutting him out once again.

“See, that’s why I didn’t tell you.” Brian plucks the bottle from Justin’s hand. “Because now you’re wondering.”

“Yeah, I’m wondering. I’m wondering if you would have told me on your own or if I would have waited for Michael or Ted to find out by accident.” Justin scoffs, turning away from Brian. He can’t look at him without the sudden urge to punch him. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again. How many times do we have to go over this?”

“And that’s what I am wondering about.” Until now, Brian has sounded like he always sounds. Like he doesn’t really care, like all of this doesn’t really affect him and if it does, it’s annoyance. Now, there is rage in his voice, rage and something else. “How many times am I going to get that phone call? How many check ups and test and biopsies are there going to be? How many times is it going to be benign before it’s cancer again? And what’s it going to be next time? Another plastic ball or maybe some wire mesh liver? Or how about they put some fucking sponge in my head? That’d be a kicker.” With every word his anger fades until he leans back against the kitchen counter, looking tired, even exhausted. 

“Stop it, you’re freaking out.” Justin reaches out for his arm but Brian pulls away from him.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Talk to me, for a change.”

“I can’t do it again. I can’t… have it… again.” Brian closes his eyes, obviously trying to fight down panic.

Again, Justin reaches out for him and this time, he holds on. “Will you actually listen to me? They just found something, alright? It doesn’t have to be cancer. And even if it is, we’ll handle it. Together.”

Another grimace, another wince. “You live in New York.”

“I can work from here.”

“You shouldn’t…”

“Last time we had this conversation, you told me I could do whatever the fuck I want. This is what I want.”

For a long moment, Brian regards him as if searching for something yet coming up empty. Before he can speak and likely say something stupid, Justin continues.

“And I want to know about these things, okay? And even if you stupidly refuse to take me to appointments with you, I want you to be able to tell me, talk to me about it.”

Brian nods in something resembling defeat. “I’m sorry.”

Justin nudges him in the shoulder, carefully avoiding Brian’s wound. “Don’t be sorry. Just don’t be an idiot either.”

At last this draws a smile from Brian. He wraps an arm about Justin’s shoulders, pulling him close. “What would I do without you?” 

Justin goes on tiptoes and presses a kiss to Brian’s mouth. “I can’t imagine.”

For a beat, Brian’s mood sobers before he returns the kiss in kind. “Neither do I, sunshine. Neither do I.”


End file.
